


The girl Assassin

by Dragongirl1234311



Category: American Assassin (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 23:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12543224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragongirl1234311/pseuds/Dragongirl1234311
Summary: Your living a secluded life. Pain and violence is your life. You have no friends except for a dodgy land lord. One night a man comes. He might be the change to your life





	The girl Assassin

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out! Hope you like it! 
> 
> Sorry if there any spelling mistakes.

 

  
Rain trickled down your black leather jacket as you stood at the lights. You shifted the bag in your grip and tapped your foot impatiently.   
The green man finally appeared and you sped across the road to the ally way. Turning down it, you came to a shed door which you opened. Slipping out of your jacket and placing it in your duffel bag, you rummaged around in your bag for your tape.   
Your fingers finally latched onto the tape and you with drew it, winding it around your small boney hands.   
You walked over to the punching bags that were set up. You started to stretch your arms and legs in order to not pull a muscle. Bouncing on the balls of your feet you started to throw punches at the bag. The chain rattled above your head, as if applauding every hard whack you gave it.

"Y/n, your with Justin."

You turned around wiping the sweat off your forehead and walked over to the tall olive skinned man standing in a small square. He raised his hands in a defensive stance. You came into a counteract stance.   
He threw a few jabs with not much strength at all. Sighing, you came up and threw a kick to his groin, which he blocked, but wasn't quick enough to block the uppercut which came up under his chin. His head snapped back. The delay in movement made you slip your leg behind his and pull it out from under him. He crashed to the ground and you sprang atop him, throwing punches to his face. He tried to roll out from under you but that just made you shift your position.

"GET OFF ME!"

He finally pushed you off and clutched at his bleeding nose.

"What the fucks your problem man?!"

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

You retorted. He held his hands to his nose and you crossed your arms across your chest.   
The coach came over and inquired about the two of you.

"What the hell is going on?! We don't fully assault our partners y/n!"

"I was doing the exercise you requested!"

A group of men had stopped there routines and were watching the fight.

"She does this every fucking time!"

"Well you always fucking suck!"

You stepped forward and looked straight into his stupid eyes.

"Coach she's a fucking spycho!"

"I am not, you fucking creep!"

"That's enough. Y/n will be practicing on the bags for the rest of the week. Enough said."

You fumed at the decision but left reluctantly and started to walk over to the bags.

"Fucking bitch. No wonder she's alone. She a fucking spycho!"

Two sniggers were followed by the comment.  
You spun on your heels. Isaac was smugly looking at you. He had brown shaved hair and dull blue eyes.

"What did you say Isaac?"

He gave a smug look and snickered to his friends.   
You started to walk back slowly to the little group.

"You heard. Your a fucking sphycotic bitch!"

With no warning at all, you jumped on him and wrapped your legs around his neck and swung him to the ground. He Gave shudder and a cough and you started to rain the punches down.  
You were finally were pulled off by a random stranger in the group.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON NOW?!"

"She just attacked me!!!"

You scoffed and crossed your arms again.

"Really? You insult me and then try and cover for it!? Real fucking dipshit right here!"

"I can't deal with this right now, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!?"

He pointed at you. You shook your head and backed away.

"Fuck you, FUCK ALL OF YOU."

You grabbed your bag and slipped your feet into your shoes and pulled your jacket on.   
The rain hadn't stopped so you pulled your hood up and stormed off into the pouring rain.

  
Half an hour later you slammed the door of your apartment closed and locked it. Chucking your jacket on your duffle bag, you started to punch the bag in your room.   
Anger was a common friend of yours. You channeled all your anger into the bag.  
You wiped sweat from your forehead and did a snap kick onto the bag. The chains rattled and the bag swayed.   
Getting bored and anger still present, you grabbed the knifes off you dirty kitchen bench.   
You expertly threw them into the side of the door only 20 meters away from you. A knock startled you out of your rage and you walked over to the door and opened it ajar.

"The fuck you want?"

"It's me, Remi. I came to tell you to keep the noise down. Your not the only person in this building."

"Ok, sorry Remi. I'll try keep it down."

You slammed the door closed and pulled the knifes out of the door. You threw them onto the small coffee table and walked into the doorway of your bathroom and started doing pull ups.   
Another knock at the door. You let go of the 257th pull up, and walked over in a huff.

"Leave me the fuck alone, please!"

"Ok jeez, I was just wandering if you were hungry. I have left over butter-chicken."

You looked at the Indian man standing in the door way. He was holding a small bag and his dark eyes seemed innocent.   
You sighed and gestured for him to enter. He came in and placed the small bag on the coffee table.   
He took out a plastic container with a plastic fork wrapped in an elastic band that kept the lid from coming off. He handed it to you and you opened the tub and dug into the meal.

"You are going way to hard on yourself, y/n."

You looked at him with a death stare.

"I'm sorry, it's true. I'm the only person who knows you in a 'friend' way. You shun everyone away."

"Your my land lord."

"I'm still the closet thing to a friend you have. Why don't you go and just talk to someone in a bar or something?!"

You finished the butter-chicken off and placed it on the table and whipped your mouth.

"I don't need friends, they burden you. Even you are overstepping my limits of 'friends.' Besides, what would we do? Go get 'coffee?' Enjoy life?"

"Well, yes. I guess,"

You scoffed and stood up.

"If I was meant to have friends I wouldn't be in this position now."

You ushered him out the door, ignoring all his attempts to not leave.

"Good night Remi."

You slammed the door closed and heard a muffled 'bye' and 'good night' before footsteps receded down the hallways passage.   
You went back to doing chin ups on the bar.   
Once you had reached 300 you dropped and started to do push ups.   
After an hour you slumped down onto your bed.   
Your breath was deep and heavy. You eventually fell into a light sleep, A knife curled up in your hand.

  
***

Mitch Rapp took the folder that had been passed to him by Irene. She sat with her hands intertwined and she looked at Mitch with a compelling look.

"David Wilkins. He's a profession terrorist. We have intel that this man, is working with the terrorist that's been doing all these bombings lately. We want you to go in and take him out."

Mitch scanned the pictures of his face and looked at his track record.   
He gave a nod.

"Whatever needs to be done."

Irene gave a nod and then her mouth gave the slightest twitch of a smile.

"You'll be going as one of the guests."

Mitch nodded and Irene stood up.

"We'll give you the details later."

She stood up and Mitch stood up as well, taking the file with him. He followed after Irene and saw Stan walking towards him.

"I need you to check out this place,"

He handed Mitch a piece of paper with an address on it.

"Why?"

Stan glance over his shoulder and pulled Mitch closer to the wall.

"Got a call from one of the agents saying he saw someone with firearms. He wanted someone to go in and check it out. Might be the man we've been looking for."

"Yes sir,"

Mitch walked down the hall and down a few flights of stairs and into an office where he was given keys for a casual jeep. He opened the door and placed the key in the ignition and started the car up. He drove out of the car park and headed for the address. 

***

You loaded the simple handgun that you had under your bed. All the guns you owned were placed out on your bed.   
Your M203 was laid out along with your 4 other hand guns. You preferred the hand guns rather than the big machine guns.   
You looked down the barrel of the gun and was tempted by the trigger, only a finger pull away from letting the bullet fire through the window you were pointing at. You chucked the gun back down and put you ammunition away in a box, placing it back under the bed. You walked over to your window and saw a black jeep pull up. Nothing out of the usual. A man stepped out and he walked to the front door.   
You hadn't seen him before. Black shaggy hair, brown eyes (of what you could see) strong arms and a tall build. He went out of view when he walked into the building. You stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a glass and filled it with water. You gulped it all down. The clock on the wall read 4:57. You had only gotten 3 hours of sleep from when you went to "sleep," only 2 hour before.   
A nock came at the door.

"Oh my fucking god."

You muttered to your self. Striding up to the door, you opened it and closed your eyes and started to get ready for a lecture.

"I haven't been making any noise Rem........"

The man from the street was standing in the door way with a smile tugging at the side of his lips.

"Who a-are you?"

You stuttered. You could see his dark brown eyes. They had seen pain. From all your experiences you could tell when someone had experienced pain. His dark brown eyes looked solemnly at you.

"I'm writing a book on life styles. Is alright if I ask you a few questions?"

It seemed a bit suspicious.

"At 5 in the morning?"

You tilted you head and leaned against the doorway. You were wearing a singlet and black leggings. You hair was in a messy bun. Your e/cs stared into his dark ones.   
He shrugged.

"Can I ask you some questions?"

You gave a small smug grin and shook your head, while licking your lips.

"I'm afraid I don't like to talk to people who turn up at 5 in the morning to ask about my life. Good morning."

You tried to close the door. He stuck his foot in the door and pushed it open. He had stepped into the room and was scanning your messy apartment.

Mitch stared at the small room. Knifes scattered on the coffee table, punching bag in the corner, chin up pole in the bathroom. And guns. Guns laid out on the bed. He spun around to face you. He'd pulled a gun out of a gun holster that was hidden under his top.

"Put your hands up!"

You raised you hand and your eyebrows.

"What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?"

"What the fuck are you doing with 5 fully functioning firearms?!"

You both stared at each other for a few minutes until you heard a voice by the door.

"Is this a bad time?"

Remi was standing in the door with an expression of confusion.

You used the distraction to dart behind the kitchen bench.

"Shit,"

You heard him swear to himself.   
Remi still stood in the door way.

"Ok, I'm going to go and leave you to chat."

He left and you reached up and grabbed a kitchen knife.

"Stand up or I'll open fire."

"Through a fucking bench? Good luck!"

You heard shuffling footsteps. You looked in the reflection on the microwave. The stranger was coming around to the right. You opened the cupboard and took out a glass and through it over the top of the bench. The man shuffled his feet around and shifted his gun, pointing it to one side of the bench then to the other.

"Just stand up!"

You smirked to yourself.

"If you think I'm going to do that, you must be the stupidest person I've ever met!"

You stood up and expertly flung the knife at him. He dodged it and it nicked his shoulder. He crashed to the ground and you jumped over the bench and landed on top of him. You kicked the gun away and pulled his arm behind his back.

"Now tell me, what do you actually want?"

You whispered it into his ear. He struggled underneath you. You pulled his hand up further and he let out a groan.

"Tell me what you want."

He didn't speak just tried to move.

"I'm getting impatient. Tell me!"

"Ok, ok, I'm here to see if..."

You leaned closer and he rolled out from under you. He commando rolled out and stood up. You quickly rose and he ran forward and through a punch which you blocked. You through a jab but he side stepped and grabbed your arm. He twisted it around and pulled you body against his. You felt the heat of his breath on your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Time for me to ask a question. What are you doing with those guns."

His voice was low and husky. You felt his lips brush past your ear as he spoke. He pushed your arm up higher. Pain surged through you.

"Alright! Alright!"

You scrunched your face up and tried to wriggle free but only exceeded in having your arm pulled higher.

"I was going to use them to go kill someone."

He gave a horse laugh.

"No shit Sherlock! Who were you going to kill?"

"Someone."

He twisted tighter.

"Who!"

"Secret."

You licked your lips and then reacted. You kicked him with your heel in the shins. He let go at the sudden attack and you elbowed him in the ribs. He stumbled back and you grabbed your jacket and a gun from the bed and ran outside and down the flights of stairs.

Mitch finally got the strength to take control of his body and grabbed the gun that was discarded to the wall. He ran downstairs and ran out into cold open air.   
He reached in his pocket to grab his keys.

"No fucking way..."

The jeep and his keys were gone.

"Fuck."

He took out his phone and opened up an app  
Mitch surveyed the area. All the cars at the CIA had a tracker on them and an app that could locate it. He waited for the phone to pin point a location. It finally gave a ping and the street address came up. He started to run through the darkened streets of New York.

You stepped out of the jeep and took your phone out and looked at the time. 5:27. You had an hour before the time was right to finish the job. You threw the keys into the pocket of your jacket. You heard a noise and spun around to look for what had created it.   
You whipped your gun out and pointed it at the figure who was standing only 10 meters away from you, with his gun raised at you.

"Really?"

"Drop the gun."

He hissed through gritted teeth. You rolled your eyes and put your other hand on the gun.

"Can you just leave me alone!"

"Who are you going to kill!"

"Fuck off!"

"I will shoot."

"I will also shoot."

A few moments passed between the two of you. A car screeched around the corner and you raised your hands to shield you eyes from the sudden light.   
Mitch acted. He ran forward and ripped the gun out of your hands and pulled out a syringe. He injected it into your arm.

"I fuckin... Hate yo.."

The serum engulfed your body in sleep. You slumped in the mans arms and he lifted you up and into the car. He took the keys from your pocket and closed the door. He walked around and ignored the man who had stepped out from the car and was looking confused at the scene that had played out.   
He sat down in the drivers seat and drove off into the night.

 

***

  
You blinked and looked at the woman sitting in front of you. Her hair was down and her lipstick was freshly applied.

"Where the fuck am I?"

"Your in and interrogation unit."

You groaned and leaned your head back. You hands were in cuffs that were attached to the table.

"You were going to kill someone apparently?"

You groaned again.

"I was. Guess I can't now."

You lifted your hands to show the cuffs.

"Who were you going to kill."

You looked at her and leaned back into your chair.

"A man. He was stealing money from an an-ominous client of mine. He hired me to assassinate him."

You looked with a look of sternness and boredom.   
The lady pulled a file out and laid out in front of her. You turned your head.

"Seems you were and orphan. Raised in a family of 3. A dad, brother and mother. The father abused you and so did the brother. The mother died a few years after and the dad also died in an 'accident.' Your brother was taken in by his aunt and uncle, and you were then shipped off to boarding School, where you also caused trouble. Leaving school grounds, not attending class. You left a year early and lived a secluded life."

"What the fuck do you want with me."

"We've been looking for the person responsible for a line of murders that we thought were not related. But now I see that maybe they are."

The lady leaned forward on her elbows and stared at you.

"You can get put in jail, and serve a 45 year sentence, or, you can work for me."

You looked up with a slight smile spreading.

"And why am I suddenly pardoned for my crimes?"

"I happen to work in a business that requires skilled agents. I need a new agent to work with agent Rapp. I think I could you use you."

"And if I want to serve jail time?"

"Well, I can easily change it to a life time sentence. Your choice."

She stood up and took the file with her.

***

"What the hell were you thinking Irene?!"

Stan was fuming with anger.   
Irene rolled her eyes.

"We need a new agent! She could be the one. We've been trying to take this guy out for years!"

"I thought Mitch was taking care of the case!?"

"He is. He needs a partner. She is trained and skilled. Her and Mitch would be unstoppable."

Stan slowly nodded and then shook his head.

" I don't know what you were thinking."

"Just get Mitch. I want them to train together and get used to each other. Whatever you do, make sure you get them to work as a team."

She walked off, her heels clacking on the ground. Stan shook his head again and looked into the window of the room where the mysterious girl was sat.

  
***

  
"Why do I have a partner!?"

Stan rolled his eyes and kept on walking.

"It's not my idea. Irene wants you to work with her."

"Her?!"

Mitch then stopped and shook his head.

"You can't be fucking serious?!"

He was looking into the gym room. You were slamming punches into the dummy in front of you. You stopped to look at the new comers.

"No. No no no no no. No fucking way!"

You stepped back and shook your head.

"You both are going to train and work together weather you like it or not! That's an order!"

"I hate the whole fucking bunch of you. I think I'd rather have a life sentence in jail, than work with this piece of shit!"

Mitch turned to Stan.

"Sign me up with anyone, but not her!"

"You two will be partners. Deal with it!"

Stan turned and walked out the doors. You shook your head and went back to hammering punches on the dummy.   
The man started to wrap tape around his knuckles and started to punch a bag, only a few feet away.

"So,"

He said in the midst of four combination punch.

"Why did you become a hit man?"

You rolled your eyes and kept on punching.

"If...you...really..want...to...know."

You stopped and leaned against the dummy, looking directly at him.

"I've been through enough in my life that I've learned to take care of myself. As for being a hit man, I prefer the term 'assassin.' It's a job that I get paid a lot of money for and no one knows it was me. Except for my client. But even they don't know me. It's all done over burner phones. What about you?"

You started to beat up the dummy again.

"Fiancé was killed in the terrorist attack in Pan am Lockerbie a few years back. Got taken in by the agency."

"Your name?"

He gave a grimace as he punched the bag harder.

"Mitch. Rapp."

"Y/n, l/n"

You both then ignored each other and beat up the dummy's and bags for another half hour till your muscles threatened to snap. Unwinding the tape from your hands, you scooped up the water bottle and drained it dry in one gulp.

"What are we actually doing?"

Mitch stopped and came over to you and took his water bottle up in his hands.

"Stopping a highly wanted terrorist."

You rolled your eyes.

"Great description. Anything you'd like to add?"

He shrugged.

"Practicing?"

You scoffed and took up another bottle and took a swig from it.

"Some practicing."

You said in a bored sarcastic tone.

"Got any other ideas?!"

He was getting pissed off and you could feel the tension building. You dropped your water bottle down and punched him in the gut. He keeled over and you sprinted to the mats laid out on the floor and waited in a defensive stance.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Training."

He menacingly approached and through an elbow. You easily side stepped it and gave a "light' punch to his exposed back. He whirled round and spun low, extending his foot to trip you over. You jumped and gave another punch to his back. He jerked up, fuming and started to rain the punches thick and fast. You deflected, counteracted and added a few of your own in the sudden flurry of combinations. Getting bored you spun low and whisked his feet out from under him. He landed heavy on the ground and you were on top of him in an instant. You trapped his arms down and leaned against them.

"Give up?"

He bit his lip and then gave a lurch that catapulted you over his head. You sprawled on the ground and he came crashing down on you. You rolled on your back and he came and sat on top. Holding one arm with his foot and the other with his hand. His hand nearly wrapped around your own small boney one. He repositioned his hand to your wrist and you tried violently to fling it off. You struggled with your other as well, but to no avail.  
He gave a sly smile as you struggled underneath him.

"Severs you right for punching me."

You tried even more to break free and you clenched you teeth.

"I would win if you weren't so strong."

You retorted. He grinned down at you.

"Your good, I'll admit that. Good at combinations and all that, but not so good when it comes to strength."

"That's why I carry a gun."

You finally brought your leg up and hooked it around his arm and wrenched it off. With your free hand you pushed his leg off and squirmed out from underneath him and stood up. He was also standing in a defensive stance. He ran at you and you side stepped and through a soft elbow to his ribs, putting your leg out so he would trip. It connected and he grunted and fell face first.  
Jumping on his back you pulled his arm up behind his back and leaned down on it, holding his other hand down with you foot.

"I told you, don't mess with me."

You smirked to yourself and he gave another grunt.

"Give up?"

"No, not yet."

He finally wrenched his hand out and pushed his hand underneath him making you topple off. He was back on top of you in the same position. Again.

"Fuck you."

He gave a grin.

"Give up?"

You tried to do the same thing but he just ducked to avoid it. He hopped off and lifted you up, still holding your wrist and spun you so your back was to him. He pulled you in and twisted your arm behind your back.

"Give up?"

You fidgeted to try and get away, only exceeding in him pushing your hand further up.

"Alright, alright! I give up!"

He let go and you collapsed to your knees and rolled your shoulder in circles.   
You stood up.

"Teach me."

"Teach you what?"

"Teach me how to get out of a situation like that."

Mitch raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because you said it yourself. I'm not strong. Teach me to be able to get out of situations like that."

You crossed you arms and looked into his brown eyes.   
He gave a nod.

"Alright then."

  
***

  
You reloaded your gun. Pointing it at the moving target. You let out a breath. The bullet shot through the barrel of the gun and it zoomed into the centre of the target.   
It had been two days since you had come to the agency and you and Mitch were as rough as sandpaper.   
Reloading the gun again, you pointed it at the other moving target. Before your finger touched the trigger, the target had been hit. You glared up at Mitch who still held his gun in the position he had used to shoot the target.

"That was mine."

He put his gun down on the table and took his ear plugs out and smirked at you.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't here the bullshit you just said."

You glared at him. Raising your simple hand gun up, you pointed it to Mitch's targets and shot one then quickly moved onto the other one.   
You smiled to yourself. His targets were 3 lanes away and you had hit the centre of them.

"Guess were even now."

  
***

  
"What the fuck!"

You took your head gear off and marched up to Mitch. It was the third day and you had already gotten into 5 fights that day with the tall black haired man.   
He took off his head gear and dropped it and crossed his arms.

"It's not my fucking fault you missed!!"

You gaped at him. You could not believe his stubbornness.

"I missed?! Your the one who fucked up the shot!"

"Can you both just shut up and do the exercise!"

Stan was annoyed and could not take any more of this bickering.

"Y/n, restart the task and Mitch, you join her."

Stan shook his head to Irene who was standing next to him.

"This is never going to work! We have 2 days to get them to work together!!"

Irene only smiled.

"Mitch needs someone who will compete with him. She and him will work together. Give them time."

Stan shook his head and walked off to get a drink.

You placed the head gear back on. Faces flashed on the 3d screen. Your targets face appeared. You glanced over it and then scanned the faces in the 3d world you had just entered.   
You and Mitch were supposed to work together on this. You had to cover for each other, otherwise, you would get shot and feel the zap that the gear would give off. Mitch's back was turned to you and you could see a target behind him. You raised your gun and fired. Mitch whirled around and saw the pixels. He gave a little nod and pointed his gun at someone else and fired. This went on for another minute or two until, eventually the bell went off. You took off the head gear. Mitch was doing the same. Irene came in and started to applaud in slow, meaningful, claps.

"You two finally worked together."

You scoffed to yourself.

"You can have the afternoon off."

She walked out and the door and closed it. You looked at Mitch who had turned his back to you. He was putting his head gear back on the table and stretched his arms up. You shook your head to his flexing muscles and grabbed your jacket.

"Going?"

You grunted and walked out.

 

***

You collapsed onto your bed. All your muscles ached and most of your strength had drained out you from the past few days. You closed your eyes and pictured Mitch on the beach with his wife-to-be. You pictured the terrorists coming and killing her in front of him. You shook the image away and got up. Dwelling on the past just makes it harder to live in the future. You grabbed a bottle of water and walked out into the corridor and up five flights of stairs, to the top floor. You opened the door out onto the roof and walked to the edge and leaned on the railing.   
Lights of cars flashed past and car horns beeped in the distance. Laughter floated up from various restaurants. Looking up into the sky you saw stars glittering down on you. You closed your eyes and breathed in. Cool air swept around your body. The breeze ruffling through your hair.

"I wish life could be as simple as this."

You said it to yourself, not expecting anyone to answer.

"We all want easy peaceful lives."

You whirled round to see Mitch walking towards you. He came and leaned against the railing with you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to drop your bag off. Your friend said you were up here."

Remi seemed to always keep a close eye on you, with his security cameras.   
You turned so your back was pressed against the railing.

"Hey look, I'm sorry for being a douche for the past few days. I just..."

"Work better alone? Yeah, I always prefer it as well. Partly because you can't find any 'hit mans' that are capable of the tasks you want."

He stared out at the city of moving lights below him.

"I'm sorry too. I..I Just never know anymore."

He turned his head to look at you. You took a swig from your cup and put your elbows on the railing.

"After my step mother died, my step dad and brother ganged up on me. I was expected to clean the house, do the washing, laundry, dinner, shopping and still be expected to get A grades at school. When I finally started to fail all the tasks, he would beat me up. He would come home, drunk, get my step brother's bat and, well... Then my step brother started to join in. It started off small. First with just a few punches, then he would get the knifes."

You shivered and rubbed you arm.

"I would get locked under the stairs without food. I can't remember how many countless nights I would sit and rock back and forth. No light. No food. I was still expected to pass all my grades AND do all the house chores.   
Anyway one night, he came home, drunk. I was 15. I hadn't got my license. He forced me to drive him to the drug store. I told him I couldn't. He forced me to. Once we got there, he I walked up the stairs and he followed. When we got to the top... He lost his balance and....toppled backwards. I watched him fall.   
When he finally came to the bottom, he had cracked his head open. I walked down slowly I squatted down. I stared into his eyes. The person inside must have heard the fall because he came out and he called the ambulance, but by then, he was stone dead."

You took another sip.

"What about you?"

"Parents died in a car crash, sent to boarding school. I fell in love. We entry on a holiday and I asked my girlfriend Katrina, if she'd want to be my fiancé. She said yes. I went to get drinks, next thing I know terrorists attack, people dying all around me. I ran back to Katrina. I was shot in the leg and when I finally found her, she was lying on the sand, dead."

You both stood in silence for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I have no idea what it would be like to loose someone that close to you."

He gave a pale grin.

"Well, you also copped it to."

You gave a huff that was as close to a laugh that you were going to get.

"I've learned to let Katrina go. She will always be apart of me and a day doesn't go past that I don't miss her. But if she was here, she wouldn't want me to despair over her."

"So that's your motive? Katrina?"

"Yeah. Once I got back, I learned all I could about the terrorists that attacked us. I trained endlessly. The agency had been tracking me and I was about to kill the man when they came in. I hated them at first, then learned to work with them.   
What's your motive?"

You shrugged.

"Pain? Never want to feel powerless? Never meeting my parents? Don't really have a motive."

You shifted nervously on your feet and stuck out a hand.

"Shall we call it equals? Try get this guy?"

Mitch grinned and shook your hand.

"Equals."

  
***

  
You applied the cherry red lipstick on you lips. Makeup. A girls torture. You flattened the crease out of your tight knee length red dress. You looked back into the mirror where your hair fell in luscious curls around you face. The dark mascara hid away the bags under your eyes, the eyeshadow making your weary eyes look peaceful, not showing the tortured soul behind. You pulled the black jacket over your bare arms and took up a handbag with a secret apartment that held a gun.   
The 2 inch heals you wore killed. You groaned and tried to walk as regally as you could. You stopped on your way out and peered through the curtain of hair at your figure in the mirror.   
The red dress outlined your curves and the black heels made you tall and penetrating. Your hair gave a light look about you. No one would know that this girl, had actually been through hell and back. You looked like a woman. You turned around to exit.   
The thought of the little mermaid came to your mind. Choosing to go on land to see the prince, that every step she took felt like daggers stabbing her feet. You smirked to yourself. Not quite that painful but you thought that in the fashions sense, this would compare to her pain.   
Sliding open the door your heart started to have a spasm attack.   
Mitch stood in a black tuxedo with a clean shave, though his stuble was still visible. His muscles were squeezed inside the arms off his suit. His eyes sparkled for the first time you'd met him.   
You tried to recover your composure and looked behind him at the Limo that the CIA had provided for the mission. He gestured for you to go first and he came and sat down next to you in the Limo.   
You stared awkwardly out the window. Thoughts came in bubbles and you tried to pop them, trying to get rid of the idea they were settling on. The more you tried to fight it, the more bubbles appeared.

"Love clouds your judgement,"

You thought trying to repel the idea away.

"Love weakens you,"

You blinked and tried to keep you eyes on the busy streets that you were passing, but somehow it came and settled on him again.

"Stop it, STOP IT!!"

You screamed in your head.

"You hated him a week ago and now? And now your all love eyes at him?! Pull yourself together! You have a mission to complete!!"

You sat there and wrangled with your mind for the next 15 minutes of the car ride.   
To your relief the car pulled over and you stepped out into the crisp clear air.   
Music pumped through the night and yells of laughter and screams of joy echoed around the place. You'd pulled up to a huge house with a huge fence surrounding it. The tall White House was perched in the centre. Strobe lights flashed here and there. Someone took your arm and you looked up to see Mitch's sly smile.

"After you,"

  
***

"Can you see him?!"

You half shout-whispered into Mitch's ear.   
He gave a shake of his head and kept on scanning the area.

"I think we should split up, make it easier to find him,"

Before Mitch could answer a young lady came up to you.   
She was wearing a white tight dress that only just covered what needed to be covered. The top of the dress came down low, exposing most of her bra. The black boots made her look like someone out of an 80s film. Her mouth had lipstick smeared around it.

"Hey, there's some guys over there who want to talk to you,"

She pointed over to a cluster of men who eyed you up and down then started prodding one another. You gave a gulp and felt your face flush and your tummy give a summer salt.   
The newcomer leaned on your arm and whispered in your ear,

"The one in the middle has the biggest dick."

She leaned back and gave a giggle and waved to them.   
You felt like you were going to be sick. Your legs began to quaver. You couldn't stand much more of this.

"I think she'll be fine."

A strong hand came and wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in.   
You looked up to see Mitch's brown eyes. Your look of shock and gratitude made him have to stifle a laugh.   
She gave a frown.

"Ok, well...bye"

She walked off annoyed and the cluster of men started to look away and talk quietly amongst themselves.

"Shall we dance?"

Mitch pulled you out onto the dance floor and started to sway you back and forth. You still felt query from the run in before.

"Thanks, for saving my ass back there. I wouldn't have liked to talk or even dance with them!"

Mitch gave a smug look.

"I guess you ow me."

You smiled and looked down. Someone behind you bumped into you and you looked around to see who it was.

"Sorry,"

You fumbled for words but immediately dropped them when you saw his face.   
The man you were sent to collect stared back at you.

"Oh don't worry about it, it was my fault."

He gave a sheepish smile and the music stopped. Mitch still held onto your waist.

"Say, would the lady care to dance?"

"Yes, I'd love to,"

You faked a glad smile and pushed Mitch's hands off and switched partners.   
He looked different from his photos. More repulsive than you could have imagined. Slicked back hair, crooked nose, wonky teeth, uneven eyes, not the fittest of people. He pulled you in close.

"What may I have the pleasure in calling you madam?"

You faked a flushed and embarrassed look and pursed you lips.

"Jasmine, Jasmine Holt. Yours?"

"David Wilkins."

He flashed a smile showing all his uneven teeth. Had this kid never had braces?!

"I know a room where it's not as crowded."

You gave a nod and faked an interested lust expression.

"Oh god, oh god oh god oh god! What am I getting myself into? Please Mitch, please please please come before anything happens."

You let yourself got pulled down various halls until you came to a door which he opened. He led you inside and switched the light on.   
A king sized bed lay in the room along with a bathroom and desk. A lock being turned signified the door had closed, and all chance of leaving peacefully was gone. You bit your lip and turned around. He was talking off his jacket and he threw it to the ground. You swallowed. He started to unzip his pants.

"Wait, what if someone walks in?"

You stalled for time.

"I have two bodyguards out front, we'll be fine!"

He moved to his shirt, undoing the buttons.

"Wait, I'm just going to call my friend to tell her not to wait for me, I'll be a second."

You scuttled over to the bathroom and closed the door and locked it. You breathed and slid your aching feet out of the heels.

"Oh my god, what have I got myself into."

You quickly texted Mitch. Your phone buzzed and you took the incoming call.

"Y/n, I'm waiting in next hallway, want me to come in?!"

You glanced around to the door and stood as far away as possible from it.

"I'm in the room now, there's two body guards out front. Take care of them for me. I've got to go."

"Wait, y/n...!!!"

You hung up.

You straightened your dress and fluffed you hair up and opened the door.   
A hand grabbed you from behind and forced you onto the ground. The click of a gun came from behind your head.

"Hands up!"

A body guard with blond hair and green eyes stood and pointed the gun at you. You raised your hands, resting them on your head.   
David sat on the bed and looked at his watch. He was fully clothed again.

"It's a shame really, all the good looking women are either desperate of trying to kill me."

He gave a chuckle and lent forward on his knees.

"But you, you I was looking forward to fucking. A shame really. You would have gotten away with it if you hadn't called your 'friend,' telling him where I was and that you had it all under control."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you,"

He gave a laugh.

"Oh, we haven't finished with you yet,"

This man was sick. You had had enough.   
You pulled the blonde mans foot out from under him and he crashed to the floor, easily removed the gun and nocked his lights out. A gun shot rang out and you dived behind the desk. It was one were there was a slab of wood across the front.

"You think a desk can hide you from me!?"

You pulled out you gun and loaded it.

"No, I don't plan on hiding."

You jumped up and shot a gun at his arm. It hit and he gave a cry and fell to the ground, clutching his wounded shoulder. You dived back down behind the desk. The other body guard fired a barrage of bullets. You heard the gun click open and sprang up, and slid across the desk. Slamming an elbow in his kidney and sweeping his leg out from under him. He toppled to the ground and propped his body up both his hands. You hit him with the butt of your gun and he slumped to the ground.   
David was trying to slide his way over to the door. You pointed your gun at him.

"I'll shoot agin, this time to your face."

He stopped dead in his tracks.

"I think you can figure it out, can't you,"

"Please, you've got the wrong guy,"

He pleaded. You rolled your eyes and came down and smashed the gun on his head. Making him fall into an unconscious sleep. You opened the door and Mitch rushed in, a cut above his eyebrow.

"What happened? Are you ok? Where's David?"

"Jeez Mitch? Calm down. I'm fine David's there the rest are asleep. What happened to you?"

You peered outside the door and saw 3 guards in a heap on the floor.

"Shall we go?"

Mitch nodded and picked up the man that was in a slumber and put him on a chair that was next to the door.

"Wait, I'll be back."

He ran down into a room and came out, wheeling a wheel chair. You raised your eyebrows as Mitch placed David into the wheel chair and whisked him down through the party.

  
***

  
"You both jepadised the mission!"

You winced as Stan slammed the folder onto the table you and Mitch were seated at.

"We did as you asked. No one got shot, no one was injured."

Stan was pacing back and forth now.

"I asked for it to be a quick in and out, not some, expedition!"

You rolled your eyes at your boss.

"What would you have preferred us to do? Huh?! Ask him if he would like to hand himself into the CIA and get interrogated, not to mention a life sentence in jail?!"

You folded your arms over your chest and glared at your boss.

"That's not the point! You were sent in to collect the victim and get out of there with no casualties!"

"I'm sorry if your not satisfied. I didn't sign up for this shit!"

You pushed off the table and left the room.   
Stan sighed and looked at the file in front of him.

"That wasn't the problem was it?"

Stan looked up at Mitch who was resting his hands on the table.

"What?"

"She wasn't the problem. Something else is and your blaming her for it."

"What the fuck are you talking about Mitch?"

Stan closed his eyes and sighed.

"Your right, it wasn't either of your faults. There isn't even a fault! The man you brought in, he isn't talking. No matter what we do, he won't talk."

A alarm went off at that moment and Mitch and Stan exchanged confused looks and quickly exited the room.

  
"What's happening?"

Irene was coming the opposite direction to them and Stan quickly pulled her over to interrogate.

"It's, y/n. She in the interrogation room."

Before any other information could exchanged Irene was on her way to the room. Mitch and Stan quickly pursued her.

 

"Who is he huh?! Who is you boss!"

You slammed your hands down into the table. David flinched.

"I r-really can't t-tell you,"

He stammered.

You flashed an evil smile.

"After I'm finished, your going to wish you had just told me."

You grabbed your gun and sprang onto the table and squatted on it, face to face with David.

"Ok, I'm going to put one finger into the barrel of my gun and shoot. Depending on how quickly you tell me the name, depends on how many fingers you end up with."

You shoved his index finger into the barrel.

"On the count of three. One.....Two.....Three."

You pulled the trigger. A scream engulfed the entire building and Mitch and Stan ran to where the gun had been fired.

"Someone open this fucking door!!"

"I'm sorry Mr Hurly, she has put the chair up against the door, where trying to get in!"

"Oh for fucks sake, SOMEONE GET ME IN THERE BEFORE SHE KILLS HIM!"

 

David gripped what was left of his finger. He cried in agony and reminded you of a wolf. Trying to touch something it knows will not communicate. Trying to talk to the moon. You smiled evilly.

"Didn't think I would do it? Shall we go to your middle finger?"

"Please, I don't even know myself. Just, please, not again."

You extended your hand and patted his shoulder.

"All in good time David, you still have nine fingers left."

You shoved his fat finger into the gun barrel.

"Please don't, please please don't,"

He was crying like a baby. The blood from his finger leaked over the side of the table, turning his brown suit into a red one.

"Are you going to tell me who your boss is or do I need to teach you another lesson?"

"Please, I don't know!"

The tears were mingling with his saliva. It was gross but you ignored it.

"I know, you know. Your just not going to tell me are you?"

"I'm telling you the truth!! I DON'T KNOW!!"

"One....Two....."

"ALRIGHT!! Alright. His name is Jansen Bloom. Please, spare my fingers!"

His face was a wet mess. His finger stubble still poured with blood. The bone was showing and it was all flaky around the edges.

You looked flabbergasted at David.

"Jansen Bloom. Are you sure?"

"Why would I lie? You have my finger on the barrel of a gun!"

You pulled your gun and he groaned as his finger slowly came out in one piece. He whimpered and caressed his hand.

"Jansen Bloom. Why?"

At that moment the door banged open and the chair skidded across the floor. Stan and Mitch careened in and Irene stood in the door way. One glance at David and she called for the a phone. She walked off and presumably called an ambulance.   
Mitch was the first to get to you. Your hands were covered in blood and it had spattered you face and chest. He pulled you out before Stan could object.

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

"I..I wasn't."

Mitch shook his head. With no warning at all he punched the wall beside your head.

"Why did you do that?!"

You crossed your arms and stood your ground.

"It's not my fault. I needed an answer..."

"To what? Show Stan that you had succeeded?!"

"Well, yes! I did!"

"You could have done it without blowing his finger off!"

"He wasn't going to say anything! Besides, since when did you care what I did?!"

He stood there with his hands beside your head, leaning on the wall, trapping your body against the wall. He hesitated. He looked at your lips and ran his tongue over his parched ones.   
With no warning at all he withdrew and scratched his stubble.

"What was his name."

"I..."

"What was his name."

You closed your mouth and looked at him. He had withdrew from the position and crossed his arms and looked at the ground.   
You gave a gulp.

"Ja...Jansen Bloom."

"Why do you seemed so worked up about it."

"I am not!"

You snapped back at him.

"I'm...I don't know! I'm going. Bye."

You stormed off and Mitch sighed and leant against the wall.

 

***

  
You lay on bed and looked up at the ceiling. You sighed and rolled onto you side. The sound off music pumped up from nearby discos.   
It was your first mission and you'd already gotten Stan to hate you. What was your life coming to?  
Closing your hand around the gun you held you drifted off into a light, pained sleep.   
Something creaked out side your door. You say bolt up right and aimed you gun at the door. The handle turned and opened.

"Shit!"

A bullet whizzed past Mitch's head and sunk into the door frame.

"What the fuck y/n! Are you trying to kill me!"

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!!"

You jumped out of bed and closed the door behind Mitch.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

You shook your head vigorously.

"It's not what it looks like."

"No? So you just happen to sleep with a gun!"

"Mitch, you won't understand."

"Then make me understand!"

You pushed your hair back in frustration and shifted your weight.

"Y/n, what is going on."

You bit your lip and shuffled your feet.

"The terrorist that David told us, he's... He's my step brother.

A long silence stretched for what seemed like hours.   
Mitch didn't say anything but just stared at you intently.

"I had the gun, because..because I think he might come after me."

Mitch finally broke the eye contact and wiped his mouth.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What."

"Tell me that your brother was a terrorist."

"I didn't know! I thought he was in jail!"

Mitch sighed and turned his back to you.   
With no warner he turned back around and punched the wall.

"God damn it y/n!"

You stood motionless and waited for his rage to calm down.

"Why didn't you tell Stan, or Irene?!"

You looked out to the window, tears welling in your eyes.

"I didn't know what to do ok?! I was scared. I thought my brother was still in jail for rape, but no he's out?! He's going to come for me!"

You whipped angrily at your eyes and stared at the floor.

"He thinks it's my fault his dad's dead. He blames it on me. I never should have taken this job. I should have served jail time!"

A tear cascaded down your cheek. You brushed it away in a hurry.

"Hey, you've probably just saved a million lives. I never could have taken on all those men alone. Now we know his name, we can find him before he does any damage to you or your life.

He put a hand on your shoulder and stared you right in the eye. You sniffed and rubbed your nose.

"Your going to make it through this. I promise."

He put a hand on your chin and raised it so your eyes met his. They showed sympathy and pain.  
The image of on the beach came tumbling in and you blinked it away hurriedly.

"I sure hope so. I can't take any of this much longer. I hate waiting for someone to strike."

Mitch sighed and stood back, crossing his arms.

"Ok, from now on, you tell me everything. Everything that happened, everything that's happening, all of it."

"Why? Why do you want to be updated regularly?"

Mitch turned and looked out your window.   
He bit his lip and considered saying something.

"Because where a team. I need you as much as you need me, and if my partner isn't at full strength then she weakens the team, and I can't have that."

"Ok,"

It was a simple answer to his speech but you weren't in the mood for a nice chat.

"Can I go back to bed?"

Mitch slowly withdrew out of your apartment.

"See you in a few hours."

He closed the door. You pulled the covers up and held the gun in your hand, ready, ready for any sudden appearances.

 

"What!?"

You looked down at your credit card and scanned the machine again.

"Why isn't it accepting?!"

Mitch chuckled an pulled your hand up and turned the card the other way round before placing it back in the machine.

"Better?"

"Shut up."

You selected the money you wanted out and hastily cramped it back into your wallet. Mitch stood casually by your side. He shuffled his foot and ran a hand through his dark hair.   
Tearing your gave away you stepped towards him, slinging your bag over you shoulder.

"See him yet?"

You where on a crowded market place where people busily hurried around without talking much notice of you. To everyone, you looked like two friends, checking out the gifts that were being sold.

"No. I think we should get a seat somewhere and observe."

You gave a quick decisive nod and followed Mitch through the throng of people.   
Teenage girls gossiped about the latest news and boys eyed the girls up and prodded each other. You sat facing outside in the high stools that lined the window of the coffee shop's front. People bustled past and mums held onto the children's hands and pulled them from shop to shop. Mitch came and sat next to you and pretended to survey the menu.

"Are you going to order something?"

You looked at Mitch. He seemed pretty intent on pretending to read the menu.

"No."

You scoffed and shook your head. In all the time you'd known Mitch, you'd never seen him order any food, however, miraculously, he always seemed to have food.

"Well are you?"

"Probably not."

His eyes twinkled and you stared back out into the sea of faces. The both of you sat in silence for a few minutes until you spotted someone come in. You flicked Mitch and gestured with your eyes at the new comer.   
He had blond, closely shaved hair and colorless eyes. His body frame looked skinny but muscly. He scanned the cafe for a table and sat down by the back, shrouded   
in darkness.

"That's him, isn't it."

Mitch gave a slight nod and he slowly tried to stand up. Before he could do anything you spotted two more people enter. Big beefy men with black suits on. You quickly pulled Mitch back in his seat again.   
You pointed at them. It was clear they were armed. A slight silhouette of a gun was visible beneath there suits and they clearly meant business.

"What do we do?"

You whispered it frantically and tried to hide your excitement from your voice.

"Wait. See what they do."

You nodded and tapped your foot impatiently on the stool leg.   
A minute passed. Nothing new. Two minutes passed. Still nothing.   
Five minutes. Nothing.

"I'm getting tired of waiting."

"Stay put."

Something was exchanged between them and the beefy men nodded. A file it looked like.

"What do we do?"

"Nothing."

"I'm tired of doing nothing."

They got up to leave.

"Screw this."

You stood up and Mitch tried to catch your hand but you had already slipped through his grasp. You casually strolled over to where they were walking and 'bumped' into the one with the file.

"I'm so sorry, forgive me."

He gave a nod and pushed passed. You watched him and his colleague leave. You strolled over to a fuming Mitch.

"What the fuck was that?!"

"Calm your horses, I was getting this."

You slid the folder onto the table and examined the front cover.

Confidential

It read in big bold letters.

You flipped the page.

Name: Y/n. L/n.   
Age: 20  
Height: Unknown   
Weight: Unknown   
Home: Unknown   
Work: Unknown  
Relationships: Unknown   
Born: 7/9/1997  
Location of birth: Unknown  
Current health: Unknown   
Last seen: Unknown   
Relatives: Jansen Bloom.

Stunned, you looked at the empty folder. That was the only piece of information about you. Your birth date, name and date birth. You swallowed.

"Well, this just backs up my theory after all."

Mitch raised an eyebrow.

"That my brother is trying to kill me."

You stared vacantly out the window.

"Hey,"

He rubbed your arm.

"He's not going to find you."

You scoffed and twiddled nervously with your hands.

"How can you be sure? For all we know, this could be a set up. My brothers not the only one who wants me dead."

"Well, your brother isn't going to find you."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because we're going to find him first. But if we are going to find him, you need to hold back on that impulse and take an order."

You smiled and felt a little bit of hope rise up.

"So you haven't felt that little impulse that says to go and disobey orders?"

You gave him a teasing prod.

"I'm not saying I haven't. I..."

He stopped in the middle of his sentence and averted his gaze to the road.

"Wait, something's not right."

You scanned the crowds of people and everyone inside the café. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"What? What isn't right?!"

With no warning at all a barrage of bullets and screams flooded the air. You and Mitch were instantly on your feet. A man with a black balaclava was reloading a machine gun and pointed it randomly at people in the street.   
Everyone in the café was crouching under tables chairs and counters.  
You and Mitch ran out into the street and people bolted past trying to avoid getting shot.

Mitch extended his arm and gave a slight nudge and steered you back into the café.

"Get inside."

You pulled your arm away and glared at him.

"You think you can take him on all by yourself?! We're a team, remember?! Where in this together. If you think I'm going to go inside and lay back while you get all the fun? Well I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Y/n! Please just do it! We don't have time for this!"

Reluctantly you scuttled back inside and watched Mitch.   
More screams, more pain, more lost families. You should be out there, helping Mitch stop this guy.   
Movemnt out of the corner of you eye made you turn around, just in time to. A knife dug into the wall behind your head. You scrambled out and stood in a defensive stance.   
The man who'd you'd been sent to observe was standing in front of you, pulling his knife out of the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Finishing the job that countless others couldn't."

You cocked your head and watched his movements closely.

"What job? Who failed?"

"There's a bounty on your head $500,000,000 dollars alive. Most people haven't even found you. But I have, I found you. And now that your alone, I'm going to claim that money."

He lunged forward and swung his hand gripping the knife at your side. You deflected it and jumped onto a table. He climbed on after and you started to play leap frog, jumping from one table to the other. You jumped to the ground and scooped up a plate and through it at his head. He only managed to dodge it, just. Instead it connected with his shoulder. The plate shattered once it hit the ground and you scooped up a knife and whirled it at his chest. It bounced off and clatterd to the ground.

"Shit."

You thought.

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. What now?! Sharper knifes, kitchen, the back."

Mitch was the only one allowed to bring a gun on this assignment. It was annoying because now, more than ever did you need it.   
He through the knife again and you ducked behind tables and chairs. He pulled out a hand gun and started to fire. No chance in hand to hand combat now. You wouldn't be able to even get close enough to disarm him without getting shot. You waited and when the the time came, you rolled into the kitchen.   
Dirty plates, food, knifes cups, glasses and cutlery lay around on the bench. You scooped two kitchen knifes up and crouched behind the bench.   
The door clanged open and you heard him shift his gun from one side to the other.

"There's know where to hide now,"

He laughed sourly. You scooped up a bottle of olive oil that happened to be on the shelf behind you and threw it to the right side of you, making sure it sailed over the bench.   
It landed with a crash and bullets fired off and you chose to strike. Jumping up you threw the knife at him. A thunk made the gun shots stop. You leaped over the bench and jumped on his back. Slicing his throat just for good measure. The life slowly dripped from his body and he slumped to the ground, dead. You took the gun from him and ran back out into the street where you knew Mitch would be.   
No more gun shots were being fired but you heard grunts and you sprinted to where the noise was.   
Mitch was wrestling with the man from before. His gun was discarded out to the side. Clearly Mitch had disarmed him and couldn't get over to it in time. His gun also lay neglected a few meters away. You reloaded your gun, aimed and fired. It hit its target and the man fell limp in Mitch's arms.   
Mitch let the man fall and he hit the ground with a thud. Mitch's eyes looked up at yours. Thanks and gratitude stared back. His face suddenly grew worried.

"Y/n, look out!"

An arm came around your neck and a cold barrel of a gun rested on you temple.

"Try anything and she's dead."

You teared at the hand that was cutting your air supply short. You tried to yell something but your words came out as a gurgle.   
You other hand was useless by your side, clamped under the mans muscly one.

"Please, let her go,"

Mitch's voice was tense and sodden with doubt and worry. He was scared.

"I'm going to back away slowly, any movements from you and we'll see how smart she is without a brain."

He slid back. Your feet grazed across the ground. Mitch stared anxiously back at you, petrified to move.   
You needed to get out of this. NOW. The gun was still in your left hand, the that was clamped down in the choke hold. You twisted so the barrel faced the man. You turned it as far as you dared and then gave a last attempt of a push and pulled the trigger. The man coughed and stumbled back, releasing the pressure. You aimed your gun shakily at the mans chest and shot again. His life faded away and you collapsed onto your knees.   
Hands came and pulled you into an embrace.

"Thank god your alright."

Mitch's breath was warm against your back. You returned the hug, a little but stunned.

"We need to go,"

He pulled you up and led you out the door and past the masses of staring people.

***

Mitch handed you a cup of steaming coffee.

“Why are you still here?”

You were sitting on the bed and Mitch was standing next to you. He sat down and looked at the ground.

“I’m just making sure your ok.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m fine.”

You looked at the mug that was clasped between your boney hands.

“Why would you care anyway?”

This took him off guard and you placed the cup on the table and leaned forward.

“What?”

“Why would you care how I feel?”

He tapped his hands and then looked away.

“Well, is it that strange if I want to know how my partner is, after she has nearly been strangled to death”

“Yeah, but you only usually ask once. You’ve asked about a million times.”

You stared at his face. His long black hair. His dark concentrated eyes.  
Did he feel the same about you? He got up and walked to the window. You also rose and walked to the coffee table and picked up a few knifes and resumed your knife throwing practice.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Mitch was making his way over to you. You threw another one, letting it sink into the door frame.

“Hey, he’s not going to hurt you.”

He slid the knifes from out of your hands and laid them back on the table.  
He was so close to you now. You could feel the soft brush of his breath. Goosebumps ran down your arm and spine. You looked up into his eyes.  
With no warning at all he kissed you. The shock of the movement finally settled in. Your body was on fire now. You could feel the prickle of it. He stood there again. Not sure whether to do it again or not.  
You stood on the balls of your feet and leaned up, putting your hands around his neck.  
He lifted you up onto his hips and you ran a hand through his dark luscious hair.

***

You rolled over and saw Mitch in a light sleep. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. A creek came from outside and hushed tones. You sat up and tried to make the conversation audible. A rustling of sheets told you that Mitch was up.

“What’s the problem?”

He whispered in his husky tone. You pointed to the door. Shadows past on the floor. You slowly got up and Mitch followed. You went to the side of the bed and felt in between the sheets and the wooden frame.  
You retrieved a gun and pointed it at the door. A shirtless Mitch picked up two knifes from the kitchen and came to stand behind you.

"Is this the place?"

A man.

"This is what he said,"

Two men.

You looked up at Mitch and mouthed two. You slowly slid over to the door and Mitch followed behind.   
The door handle started to turn.

"Shit it's locked."

The other man gave a snigger.

"What do expect?"

"Shut up, you'll wake her up."

A rummaging followed the small talk and you could feel Mitch's tense stance behind you.   
His soft warm breath tingled where it licked your skin. You felt a blush starting to grow on your cheeks.   
The sound of something getting put into the lock snapped you out of your trance.

"Got it?"

"Yeah, gimme a sec."

Mitch shifted and you slowly backed away and raised the gun.   
The door creaked open.

The two men came in and raised there machine guns. You leapt onto the first ones back and swung him to the ground, kicking his gun out of his hands and pointing yours at his face.

"Don't move."

You growled.

You looked to see Mitch had the other guy in a head lock. You turned your focus back to the man in front of you.

"Who sent you?"

"No one."

You shifted so the gun was pressed against his neck.

"Who sent you?"

"Burn in hell bitch."

A hand came and pulled the gun out from it. Mitch was crouched next to you and looked solemnly at you.   
He took you by the hand and pulled you up. You didn't break eye contact. A bang went off and the man on the floor screamed. You looked down and saw him rocking his door back and forth. Blood started to leak onto the floor. You looked back at Mitch.

"Why,"

"We need answers."

"I could have done it."

"But I didn't want you to do it."

You looked back at the crying man.

  
***

Mitch was sitting in a chair across from the man.

"So, what, you going to tell us, or do we have to start getting gruesome?"

The man stared blankly back at him.   
You rolled your eyes and pushed off the bench and stood beside Mitch.   
You picked up a knife.

"You know, when I was a kid my favorite movie was batman, the dark night. Do you want to know why?"

He still stared blankly back at you.

"Because, the joker. He was always so funny and never serious. Just sort of...there. An obstacle. Anyway, he was always obsessed with smiles. Your looking a little down, how bout we turn that frown upside down?"

You walked over to him and placed the knife at his cheek. You felt his breathing increase.

"It's as easy as.."

"OK!! Ok. I'll tell you,"

You stood back and folded your arms.

"I don't know much. But, the guy who sent us here, he doesn't like failures. So, so I'm probably as good as dead anyway."

"Tell us how we can contact him."

"My friend,"

He gestured with his head to were the man was still sleeping on the floor.

"He has a burner phone in his pocket. That is how you can contact him."

Mitch was already on it. He came and handed it to you.

***

You squirmed around in the trunk of the car. Mitch was in the front seat, driving. The plan was stupid, but you had no other choice. You nervously scratched your head.   
The car came to a stop. The boot was opened and Mitch stared down at you.

"Are sure you want to do this? There's still at her was."

"This is the best way to do it. I need to confront him."

Mitch pulled you up and led you into a small room.   
A security camera looked down.

"Name."

The camera said

"Chris David."

"Business"

He pulled you in front of the camera.   
A buzz then a click answered and the door swung open and a man in black stood there. He gestured for them to follow.   
You were led down a few corridors, all the while Mitch stayed a close to you as he dared.

"Ah ha, Mr David, please take a seat."

He pointed for Mitch to sit.

"So, I see little sister that you've grown to quite the charmer."

He smiled wickedly at you.

"I see you haven't changed."

He templed his fingers an leant back in his chair.

"We shall discuss your payment later, for now, I would like to meet you. I have had so many men try and take her out. All have failed. Except for you. So I would like to know in detail, how you managed to capture my murderous sister."

Mitch shrugged.

"I tricked her."

He raise an eyebrow.

You tuned out of the conversation and scanned the room. No windows, one door. Two guards, two of you. Both armed with assault rifles. You two, armed with hidden hand guns.

"Sister, you seemed occupied."

"Oh I don't know, my psychotic brother has jus taken my captive. I am TOTALY not freaking out."

He gave a chuckle.

Mitch stood up.

"If you don't mind Mr Bloom, I think I better be on my way."

Mitch tucked his shirt back down and stood up and put out a hand for a shake.

"We can talk about payment later."

"Why so eager to leave, Mr David?"

Mitch shifted his weight.

"Other business."

The two guards closed the door way off.

Your time had come. You slipped your hands out of the fake cuffs and whipped out your gun. You shot the two guards in the face and whirled around. Mitch and Jansen both stood with their guns trained on the other.

"I should have known better. If no one can do the job for you, your better off doing it yourself."

The gun shot echoed and Mitch stared at the now dying man. He looked around at you and saw the now smoking barrel.

You walked over to your dying brother and knelt down.

"I didn't kill your dad. I killed you."

The life died from him.

  
***

Mitch handed you a glass of wine.

"Sorry, I don't drink the stuff."

You pushed it away.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

He gave a sly smile and you chuckled to yourself.

"Well, at least that's all over, no more terrorizing brother."

"Which reminds me,"

You turned away from the balcony and looked at Mitch. His dark eyes, black hair, stubbled beard.

"What?"

"That night, I was thinking about it. I was wondering, since we are both sort of killing machines, work together and both fight for the same cause, I was wondering if you'd be my girlfriend. Just to so we can, you know, call 'us,' this, something?"

You smiled and looked down.

"If you insist, Mitch, Rapp."

You put your arms around his neck and he leaned down to kiss him.

"As long as we don't tell Stan, he'll flip out."

"Our new mission, keeping this relationship secret. Probably the hardest thing yet."

 

The end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If anyone has any requests, you can email me at znipet@outlook.com  
> I do fanfic about maze runner, stiles from teen wolf, American assassin, and other movies containing Dylan O'Brien and Thomas Brodie Sangster.   
> Sorry if I missed any spelling mistakes.


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